


How We Fall

by jjxneus



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:56:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25857793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjxneus/pseuds/jjxneus
Summary: Geonhak falls and Youngjo desperately chases after him.But his starlight has gone where he can no longer follow.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	How We Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [the solo Leedo LIVED teaser](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFqHqRz7MtA) [tw for blood, guns, shooting] & [this tweet](https://twitter.com/doyappiyak/status/1293210443742289921)
> 
> i swear one day i'll write younghak that isn't angst, but today isn't that day

He’s running down the hallway - that much he’s aware of. His body is bruised from fighting, from colliding with pillars and walls that appear out of nowhere as the world around him fades from dream to nightmare and back again. There’s a sinking hollow feeling in his chest, like he already knows what is wrong, but he refuses to accept it until he has no choice but to. Youngjo kicks open the door, spear already lifted and poised to fight. 

He wishes he hadn’t come. 

Seoho stands, stiff and frozen, eyes wide and gaze focused on the body on the ground. Youngjo can’t look, _won’t_ look, can’t see anything except a fierce _red_ that consumes his vision. Seoho’s probably in shock, stunned in horror, helpless and _defenseless_ as the assailants lift their weapons in his direction. 

Youngjo’s body moves before he’s even aware of what he’s doing, knocking Seoho down to the ground before baring his fangs in anger and raising his spear. Time passes in a blur, there’s nothing but the hot rush of anger and vengeance flowing through him, temporarily crushing the grief that threatens to burst out of his chest. He kills. That’s all he’s aware of. There’s blood on his spear, running down the cold metal as he stands in the centre of the room, breathing heavily. It trails down and pools on his fingers as he takes in shaky breath after shaky breath. 

Every active threat in the room has been eliminated. But Geonhak is- 

Youngjo crumples to his knees, already so numb that the sudden collision doesn’t feel like anything at all. Because nothing could hurt as much as seeing Geonhak’s collapsed body, as much as cradling his lifeless husk close to his chest, close to his _heart_ and hoping beyond hope that this is all just a sick nightmare. His spear falls to his side but it doesn’t matter. The smell of death spreads throughout the room but it doesn’t matter. There’s blood all over his hands, his clothes, but it _doesn’t matter_ because _nothing_ matters right now except for Geonhak and Geonhak is _dead_ in his arms. 

Youngjo’s avenged his death but that doesn’t bring him back and he knows that, swallows that bitter truth until he can feel its taste burning his throat and searing down into his belly. There is no pain like this, he thinks, like this feeling of being torn apart and put back together over and over and over as he begs and pleads and _prays_ for Geonhak to open his eyes. His entire body shakes as his prayer gets louder, repeated over and over as if that will give it more power. 

_Please, please, please._

He wraps an arm around Geonhak’s shoulders, lifting him and pulling him in closer as his other arm desperately reaches for the other monarch’s hand. He intertwines their fingers together and does his best to smile but it keeps wavering as he holds back tears. God he must look awful. Geonhak would laugh at him, poke him and tease him for getting so emotional. 

“Wake up.” He whispers, begs, demands, “Please wake up.” 

Geonhak doesn’t move. But Seoho does, slowly getting to his feet in Youngjo’s peripheral vision, his orange hair standing out almost painfully clear against the blank white of their surroundings. He stands up and stands still, Youngjo can feel his gaze, but neither of them move. Until Seoho takes a single step forward and Youngjo has to bite his lip so hard it draws blood just so he won’t scream. Seoho, Seoho, Seoho. He just stood there, didn’t move, didn’t act, didn’t do anything to try and save Geonhak. 

“Youngjo hyung.” 

He’s so _angry_ and it scares him, he wants to be angry at Seoho, he wants to _stay_ angry at Seoho. But he sees the wounds that have burst through Geonhak’s body, the blood that steadily seeps through the fabric. Still he turns to stare at Seoho, the fire in his eyes weaker than before but still there nonetheless. Seoho stares back in silence. Youngjo’s hands curl tighter around the body in his arms protectively. 

But he knows, he denies it but he _knows_ that Geonhak was dying before he hit the ground, he was already dead as he fell. 

And Youngjo falls in grief, swallowed up by the void of it in waves that crash into him again and again, sending him further out to sea with no lighthouse to guide him back. Because the light is lying right before him, cold and pale, and his memories of being alive and human are so distant they no longer feel real. His hand cups Geonhak's face, long fingers resting against flesh that still holds the barest flicker of heat, of fire. 

"My starlight," he whispers almost reverently, the sound distorted and distant, broken up in between sobs. If he concentrates, if he focuses so hard that every other sound melts away, perhaps he can delude himself into believing Geonhak responds. 

He doesn’t see Seoho approach but he hears it, feels the proximity as the other monarch nears. It’s time for Geonhak to open his eyes, he thinks deliriously, any second now Geonhak will open his eyes and see Seoho and kick a leg out to provoke him. It doesn’t happen and that shouldn’t break Youngjo even further as much as it does. He’s falling down and there is no rope for him to hold onto to climb back up. He’s falling down and he knows Seoho can see it happen. 

"Hyung," Seoho whispers, his hand hovering by Youngjo's shoulder as if he's afraid to touch him, "Hyung, he's gone. We have to go-" 

"No!" Youngjo sobs out, his voice every bit as cracked and broken as he feels, "I told him I wouldn't leave him, I _promised_ him." 

Seoho creeps closer and it takes all of Youngjo's remaining strength to resist the urge to curl up tighter around Geonhak's body in a twisted attempt to protect him. He gives in. Geonhak's cheek is pressed to his chest and he curls in on himself as his tears flow freely. He knows Seoho is saying something else, he knows he should listen, he knows his tears are dripping down onto Geonhak's cheeks and trailing down his face as if the corpse was the one crying. Seoho's hand makes contact with his shoulder and his entire body tenses up, freezing from that point outwards. 

“We promised to protect each other.” 

The cry he lets out is despairing and pathetic, more of a wail than anything else as it tears its way out of his throat. His heart clenches painfully in his chest, like he’s suffocating and the ache refuses to go away, like he’s falling and drowning all at once. He’s desperate, he knows that. He’s desperate and running out of options that will allow him to continue denying the fact that his lover is dead. Even if they survive, even if they break the curse, it will be as five not six. There will be no Geonhak to wake up to in the mornings. No Geonhak to admire against the backdrop of sunrise or sunset, as the light paints him in shades of gold and pink. No Geonhak to hold close, so close that their breaths mingle together, beneath an endless sky. 

He’s desperate and Seoho doesn’t stop him. The other monarch lets out a muffled gasp as Youngjo sinks his fangs into his own wrist, the hand on his shoulder tightens its grip for a moment before Youngjo shrugs it off. His blood spills out steadily and he holds his wrist over Geonhak’s lips. 

“Please Geonhak,” He sobs, “Wake up.” 

The blood falls in drops, red roses blooming against Geonhak’s cold lips one by one before trickling down his chin as they go untasted, unconsumed. His hand begins to shake as he holds it over Geonhak’s face, trembling as he lowers it until he can feel the icy touch of lips against the wound. He presses his wrist down harder, urging the limp body in his arms to drink, because he isn’t ready to let go of him yet. He isn’t ready to let go of their future together. 

_Please, please, please._

Nothing happens, of course. Youngjo cradles his face once last time, the puncture wounds on his wrist already healing as if nothing had happened. If only his heart could say the same. He attempts to blink away his tears but he can’t hold them back. He traces a line along Geonhak’s cheek from the corner of his mouth, recalling the way he used to smile, the light and warmth that had emanated from him - brighter than the stars. He had been _Youngjo’s_ star, but now he’s all burnt out and his light has dissipated. 

Gone forever. 

So this is how the monarchs fall. One by one, like dominoes in a line, each one tipping over until they've all succumbed to Helios' curse, destroyed by the darkness. Geonhak was never supposed to fall first, Youngjo mourns. 

He was never meant to outlive his starlight. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you've read this entire thing, wow thank you! and i'm so sorry 
> 
> come cry at/with me!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jjxneus) ♡ [cc](https://curiouscat.me/jjxneus)


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